


Even Gods May Die

by Serriya (Keolah)



Series: Interdimensional Bridge [25]
Category: Warhammer 40.000
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chaos, Crossover, Demons, Dimension Travel, Gods, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-06-05
Updated: 2006-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-08 07:48:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/758883
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Keolah/pseuds/Serriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In these strange times, even gods may die, and others may rise in their place.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hand of Sheniro

"Where did she take off to?" Nihilian wondered. "Where are _we_ going?"

"I don't know," Abram said. "And right now, we're going to noplace in particular--" the console said their destination was Epsilon system "--until you tell me where Emily is. I need to find her. It's urgent."

"What's happening?" Nihilian asked.

"You said she wanted to know what was going on around here, didn't she?" Abram said.

"Yes," Nihilian replied. "She was adamant that a facility on Epsilon Station get back on production."

"Then we'd better go and tell her what's actually going on, hadn't we."

Nihilian nodded. He gave Abram the coordinates to their hideout. "I hope you know what you're doing."

Abram tapped at the console and input the new coordinates. The engines hummed and whined for a moment, then the message "Destination change accepted" flashed on the console, along with a new ETA to match.

Abram said with a smirk, "That's not a standard feature of the Darknova either."

"I noticed. I hope that's not the only modifications you've done."

Abram chuckled softly. "Not all. This little baby's full of surprises. I hope you won't mind my company for the next few days."

He shook his head. "You are but a lone voice in my ears where thousands used to scream, but it beats nothing."

Abram chuckled again. "That could be remedied if you were so inclined." He flipped on the ship's comm and tuned it into the cybernet frequency.

"Are they all chanting 'Blood for the Blood God' or screams of anguish and death?" He chuckled.

"Some of them, at least," Abram said.

Snatches of conversation could be made out in the babble on the net, discussions on various weaponry and technologies, samples of new music, exchanges of pornography, cybersex, torture methods, complaining about the Empire, open threats against the Empire, complaining about other Cybions...

"Much more variety than what I'm used to." He smirked, finding a seat and getting as comfortable as power armor allowed.

"Heh. Cybions," Abram said with a chuckle. "Everyone calls em crazy. One has to wonder if they don't have a point."

Nihilian sighed sighed. "I can't believe... I let myself be captured. Were I still truly a devout follower of Khorne I would've thrown myself at her with gusto."

"You seemed rather suicidal to me."

"I am glad to still be with the living... but it is such a strange thing to look at myself now and a year ago."

"Times change. People change. Everything changes." Abram snorted softly. "I sound like a Cybion..."

"It's unsettling, though," Nihilian said. "I've been the way I am for centuries, and now...it's all gone. I don't know what to do with myself, except kill -- even that doesn't hold _as much_ pleasure as it used to."

"In the end, life is what you make of it, with your own choices," Abram said, stretching a bit and leaning back to listen to the chatter. He let the ship continue on to its destination.

Nihilian engaged his Catalepsan Node and zoned out, listening to the hiss of voices.

After several days, they arrived at the coordinates given, and Abram took the controls as the ship dropped out of hyperspace.

Things had changed just a bit in their absence, the approach into the system being greeted by a sudden arrival of a wing of Hell Talon heavy fighters who challenged them for identification... any clearly Imperial design would have just sent out an alert and likely rain of fire.

Abram replied, "This is Abram Jordan and Nihilian, returned from the Karzan Galaxy. We have important news for Emily Jordan."

He didn't recognize the type of ship, of course, but took the demand as fairly normal. The challenge was accepted and they were escorted to the planet.

Nihilian remained in a Catalepsan trance, half-conscious, half-dreaming of the old days of glory and blood, mixing with the conscious thoughts that those days were gone and the future was quite uncertain for him. Once he brought the ship down and landed, Abram poked him a bit to try to snap him out of it.

Nihilian blinked and his eyes lost their glazed look, regaining focus. "We there?"

Abram gave a nod, and powered down, heading to the hatch to climb out. Nihilian shook the fuzzies out of his head and stood up, accounting for his gear and wondering how brutal a meeting they'd receive.

Emily came quickly and dropped what she was doing at the word that Abram was here. " _ABRAM?_ " she cried. "What in the name of _Hell_ are you doing here?" Apparently what she was doing involved little to no clothing, too.

Danir had been enjoying one of the growingly infrequent spans of time free of the infernal creature that had taken to following him around, a spy without doubt and it galled him to no end. He would bide his time however, and continue at the work he'd been set and sworn to... at least until such a time as opportunity and reason presented itself.

System control had been clearly reminded to inform him of any unusual activity coming or going, the former controller had served quite well as a reminder as he had healed the long weeks after from the encounter. They did not disappoint him in this, and he arrived shortly after Emily with his retainers in tow.

Abram just sort of cleared his throat and said, "My, my, Emily, you have quite the fashion sense these days."

He tossed her a trench coat. She caught it in midair and blinked for a moment, smirks, and put it on with a shrug. Abram himself was currently wearing an unadorned black robe. Nihilian still wore the Black Legion power armor with the World Eaters right shoulder pad.

Danir paid no attention to the undress, though his attention was readily snared by the easy familiarity and the acceptance of the newcomer. Now what had the Aspirant returned with? Interesting. He drew to a heavy-footed stop nearby, largely managing to repress a grimace of distaste as a familiar demonic presence also manifests itself nearby, clearly in as cheerful a mood as the creatures could possess.

Emily absently tied the coat around her waist and said, "What has brought you out this far, father?"

Abram smirked and said, "I've got some news, and you probably won't like it."

The daemonette settled into a sinuous crouch, tail curling around its clawed feet and dark, glittering eyes watching the interplay curiously. What it might be thinking was anyone's guess.

Abram took a breath and went on, "Epsilon Station has been taken over by the Empire. They're getting their fingers further and further into the fringe worlds. Also, I hope you weren't too fond of the Urians on planet Bristol who were performing human sacrifices to summon a rather large... thing. And you know who came to defend against it? The El'dari."

"They blew the entire planet apart." Nihilian commented flatly.

Danir looked from Abram to Nihilian in question. "And you returned to tell the tale?" It might sound mocking, but there was something closer to quiet approval in his tone. Intelligence was a quantity to be valued above blind annihilation... how else might they have known?

"Were it not for the Eldar," Nihilian said with a slight hint of distaste, "We most likely would've been destroyed, either by the Urian forces or the serpent they summoned."

"The fool Urians were attacking _my_ planet," Abram snarled. "They were attacking _Tibet_! We had to destroy them and their gigantic monster too."

Emily took in what he was saying and said, "They weren't acting under _my_ order, that's for sure."

"Ever predictable," Danir snorted, clearly referring to the Eldar, then nodded to Nihilian. "You did well to return with this information. Your memory will be searched for further details regarding events, in due course."

Abram rolled his eyes a bit and said, "I don't know if the Cybions and the Urians ever were doing what you wanted them to, Emily, but they certainly aren't now. Apparently, the head Cybion geneticist has been, instead, working on a bizarre new creation he calls the 'Orkar' instead." Abram sighed.

Emily blinked for a moment at that and merely said, "Orkar?"

"I've said all that's pertinent." Nihilian said, wincing slightly as Abram brought up that nasty little point.

Danir merely grunted and returned to listening to the ongoing conversation for now.

"An Ork/Eldar hybrid," Abram said, making a bit of a face. "All the strength and physical prowess of an Ork, combined with the intelligence and psychic ability of an Eldar. At least he only made one of the things before his operation got shut down. It's back on Tibet right now."

Emily mumbled a bit. "It's like herding cats. You look away for five minutes, and they get distracted by something shiny and go off to do that instead. The fools!"

"Then there was that Sharra wench..." Nihilian's face contorted into a mask of hate.

"Sharra?" Emily inquired, raising an eyebrow. "Who is that?"

"Some were-thing that claimed to be a mercenary looking for work when I ran into her on Bristol," Nihilian said. "I honestly don't know who she works for or what her goals are, but I will kill her personally the next time I see her."

Abram smirked. "A cyborg, actually."

Danir was somewhat more concerned with the concept of the hybrid, and narrowed his eyes to focus on Abram. "And you're certain there's only one of these creatures, with no one capable of creating more?" Pity that it couldn't have been brought under sway, but to find a new enemy combined of the worst elements of two? Unacceptable.

Abram nodded to Danir. "Only one. And he claims that the creature is incapable of any form of reproduction. And fortunately, he's also quite loyal to us and the Tibetans. And his pet bunny." Abram smirked. "Can't believe the lengths he went to to save that thing..."

"Excellent," Danir replied simply and returned to quiet observation, the concept of a single mercenary of no real interest or concern to him. When one considered empire, the motes of dust to be swept out of the way were meaningless. Recent efforts had strengthened their combat readiness immensely, and the newest offensive could begin no more than a week from now, were Emily willing.

They had lost perhaps ten percent of the total troops who had transited with Inquisitor Ilane, those unknowing and too stubborn to accept simple realities. The remainder had begun their full indoctrination and conversion, perhaps another ten percent being lost to inoperable insanity or decimation of those considered unfit. Somewhat more than six thousand remained, however, more than enough... not including the terminators.

Perhaps Emily would see fit to keep the blasted demon with her when things began instead of leaving it roaming free to annoy him, he scowled and then proceeded to ignore the creature yet again.

Emily gave a bit of a nod, and said, "This Sharra, is she a threat to us?"

Abram said, "Probably not." He shrugged. "Zillah seemed quite taken with her."

Nihilian snarled. "I'll strip the marrow from her bones given the chance."

Abram said, "Technically, she doesn't really have... oh, never mind." He smirked.

"Another speck under the treads, nothing more," Danir said dismissively.

Emily smirked a bit more. "Well, then, it's a good thing you're here to _help_ then, Abram."

Abram replied, "Yes, perhaps this time you won't sacrifice me to the dark gods and make me spend several months in hell then resurrect me, hmm?"

Danir shifted his attention to Nihilian momentarily. "Report to an interrogator to make certain that nothing has been overlooked which might prove of use, before this time tomorrow." He then glanced to Emily. "I have many details to oversee, if you will excuse me to attend them, Mistress?"

Emily chose not to comment on Abram's words, and nodded to Danir.

Abram said to her, "Also, girl, remember clothes. I don't care if you're my daughter or if I got possessed by the god of pleasure and had sex with you, I really don't remember it!"

Nihilian simply glared at Danir, then looked to Emily, now uncertain of his place in all this. Abram's words carried weight, but Emily was a leader he could follow.

Danir inclined his head in brief acceptance, then turned to walk off, gathering his retinue as he went. The daemonette, thankfully, showed no signs of following him, apparently content to remain near Emily for now and observe with alien interest.

Abram, who had been previously attempting to ignore the daemonette with a reasonable degree of success, glanced toward it with a bit of a smirk.

Nihilian remained statuesque -- what would normally be a tornado of violence waiting to be unleashed was currently caught in the maelstrom of his own thoughts.

"Least you've got someone else to occupy your time so Sheniro need not use me anymore." Abram rolled his eyes a bit.

Nihilian looked at the daemonette, gave a slight snort at Abram's comment, and continued boiling his thoughts.

Unperturbed by what might be considered an insult or insinuation, the daemonette assessed the two newcomers thoughtfully, a twist of its lips giving an insight to the cruel turn of imagination. All part and parcel of being one of the creations of raw Chaos.

"Abram Jordan," he introduced for the benefit of those who might still be about and not knowing. "Former High Priest of the Nameless Ones." He smirked at Emily, glancing to her talisman.

That sparked a light of interest in the creature's eyes, and it looked from Emily to Abram before focusing on him. "Former?" it asked in low, sultry tones. "What allegiances now?" Its gaze was intent and unreadable, whether considering ally or prey unknown.

"I am not currently a priest of anyone," Abram replied.

Nihilian regarded the daemonette, wondering how a being of Chaos managed after being cut off from the gods, then reminded himself of his own position. "Idle hands are the devil's workshop. What shall I do?" he asked Emily.

Emily looked to Nihilian and said, "Come with me to my office and tell me all that you saw in Karzan."

He nodded and followed her. Sure as hell beat having to deal with an interrogator's... methods -- or would it?

"So easily swayed and dismayed," the creature crooned mockingly, then turned to follow the others departing with dark eyes, considering.

Emily glanced briefly to the daemonette, indicated Abram meaningfully, and continued on with Nihilian. Abram smirked a bit and folded his arms across his chest.

A flicker of a grin crossed the daemonettes lips as it nodded silently to the command, then returned its attention to Emily's relative.

"You going to loose your pet on your poor father?" Nihilian said quietly and with a bit of a grin as he walked with her.

Emily snorted softly. "As he said, I _did_ sacrifice him once, too. Although to be fair, he was trying to sacrifice me first."

Nihilian wondered how this universe got anywhere if family members were trying to sacrifice each other, but followed Emily into her office after dismissing it as inconsequential.

Emily took a seat and said, "Now. Go on. Start from the beginning, and omit nothing."

Nihilian explained the doctor's work, Sharra's appearance and the Urian portal. He described the enormous draconic being, mentioning Abram called it an avatar of one of the Nameless Ones and actually assisted the Eldar in destroying it. He mentioned he was going to scrape together some remnants of the World Eaters to start slaughtering Primos, but was denied the opportunity by Sharra.

* * *

"How sad it must be to have no hand to guide," the daemonette murmured to Abram. "No one to call master. A lonely thing indeed."

"I don't particularly mind it," Abram said. "I _know_ what the gods of death are like, and how they reward loyalty."

"Of course they reward loyalty," it replied, smiling to reveal sharply pointed fangs. "Even if you might not appreciate the reward at the first. An eternity to listen to the siren song of pain and pleasure, sorrow and euphoria? The notes are all the same in the end."

"The Gods of Death are not so much inclined toward pleasure and euphoria," Abram replied. "They leave that to the Gods of Life."

The daemonette crept closer, halving the distance between them to study him at closer range... at least in theory. "And?" in asked in dulcet fashion, "Is there a difference? Really? I think you'd find the answer quickly enough if you truly looked at it."

"Life and death are merely two halves of the same coin. And I am a Dancer on the Edge of Death," Abram said, looking to the creature and sighing a bit in resignation. "And I know perfectly well that while the other gods are bound, Sheniro is not."

"Sheniro," the daemonette murmured, tasting the name and recognizing its touch readily enough through Emily and her medallion. It tilted its head questioningly, turning a clawed hand palm-upward. "And you refuse the gifts that One would offer you? Why?"

"I do not serve that one by choice," Abram said. "But I know who owns me regardless. And when it comes down to what I must do here, why I am really here, do not interfere... it will only benefit you."

The daemonette looked at Abram curiously, then flowed forward to curl and coil behind him, close enough to whisper in his ear, "Tell me then, speak of what might unleash or strengthen the powers of the power which made me. Whisper sweetly to me and no other will know..."

Abram closed his eyes and murmured quietly, "The talisman. The other nine gods are bound. Sheniro is not. And by that... he intends to destroy them and take their powers as his own."


	2. Unholy Ascendancy

The daemonette was arrested by the image, a grin surfacing as its tongue uncoiled to lightly caress the back of Abram's neck. "That One has always had such interesting appetites," it crooned. "To serve that goal is your intent?" A subtle aura of excitement and anticipation seemed to flow from the creature, remembering the joys of Slaanesh ascendant.

"Yes..." Abram whispered, shivering involuntarily at her attentions. "That is why I am here. Emily.. Emily is the key... the talisman... they are bound to the talisman..."

"I have felt their touch from it," it cooed. "How could I not?" It turned a claw to trace the edge of his jaw, drawing the thinnest line of crimson from his flesh, and its grin turned to something of shadow and seduction as it went on, "You wouldn't lie to me, would you? There are ways to make certain your heart is truly committed, paths which you might well find... enjoyable."

Abram let his eyes slide shut for a few moments and let out a deep breath. "No, I would not lie to you. There would not be much point, now would there?" He chuckled softly. "I fear not death nor life."

It licked the trace of blood from his jaw with a lingering caress, then reluctantly drew away to circle once more in front of him. "You do not know the fear of extinction, of fading away without trace or dream of return," it whispered. "Tell me what must be done, what sweet words and seduction must be turned to this miracle, and we will do it."

"The talisman," he said quietly opening his eyes again to look at the creature. "It must be gotten away from Emily... There's a connection with her as well... but being both away from her and away from its home galaxy, it should be weak enough..."

The daemonette licked its lips, torn between conflicting impulses and loyalties... at least as far as they could be considered to _have_ loyalties, its glittering gaze turning to him. "What will that mean to her?" it asked softly, the tip of its tail twitching in agitation. She had come and returned a chance of life to them...

"No harm will come to her, no," Abram said. "But she oversteps her bounds... she thinks to take the power of gods as her own, she thinks herself greater than the gods, she would hold them in her yoke... As well, for the interim though, they are not the likes of which I would like to see roaming free..."

"You speak of treachery against _her_ ," the daemonette hissed, though clearly still torn. "She who returned that One to us, and you would take it away again?"

Abram shook his head slowly. "Not her," he murmurs. "Never her." He sighed softly and closed his eyes. "She will... also benefit..."

"Swear it," the daemonette said, its dark gaze intent. "On your soul, Abram Jordan. Swear that no harm will come to her, that your machinations will further the purpose of that One as is only right... do this, knowing that there are things beyond death to fear and that some promises can never be avoided or escaped, and I will do this."

Abram looked at the daemonette and said, "I do so swear it."

"Then wait," it said quietly, seeming shrunken somehow as it considers the betrayal it contemplated and has agreed to, an almost sad expression rising... very unusual. "There are times where it may be done, and it will be. Not now, her attention turns to the fool lackey of the Blood God, but soon."

"He is... not so much as he may once have been," Abram muttered. "I will wait."

The daemonette nodded once, silently, then shifted aside the momentary shadow in the nature of its kind to look back at him with a slow grin. "She bade me attend you," it said, voice shifting back to a sultry purr. "Is there anything you might desire? Poor servant indeed were I not to share the Mistress' benevolent gifts with her guest..."

"If you would be certain of my devotion and commitment..." Abram said with a faint twitch of his lips. "Choice or no, that one cannot be refused..."

"Questions of dedication has nothing to do with it," the creature murmured, the shimmer of raw heat and sexuality returning to surround it as it drew near. "Though you can think of it as a test, if you wish. So many possible answers and paths of enlightenment to explore." It pressed sinuously against him, dark eyes beckoning. "Join me?"

"Yes..." Abram murmured, readily agreeing and giving in.

The daemonette was more than pleased with his answer, and rather suspected that Emily would be pleased to have the man observed for the interim. Minor details like that were fleeting, however, all energy turned to a quiet place of comfort and indulging the varied pleasures of its nature and inclination.

* * *

After thoroughly grilling Nihilian on what was going on back in Karzan, Emily sent him off to do whatever and proceeded to let a little time pass so something might actually happen.

Nihilian wasn't sure what to do. He wanted to work for Emily and get the armies ready, yet at the same time independence seemed sweet. Get the war bands back together and slaughter, this time with a purpose much more dire than sating the God of Blood.

His thoughts ended up being distracted somewhat by a bit of a commotion. Emily was a wee bit annoyed when she realized the talisman was gone and rushed outside to find Abram there holding it. And it was glowing, brightly, and he had a wild look in his eyes like a man possessed. (Although around here that wasn't really so much merely a turn of phrase).

Well, throwing together a force, as ragtag as it might be compared to either the ferocity of the World Eaters or the rigid command of the Black Legion. But upon gazing down the hall, more pressing mattered seem to be occurring. He wandered down.

A dark wind swirled around Abram, howling.

Emily screamed at him, "What in the name of Hell are you _doing_?"

Abram grinned ferally at her.

"Uh..." Nihilian gave him an odd look. "What _is_ he doing?" Unconsciously Nihilian's right hand went for his chain-axe across his back, even thought it would probably be of little use.

Emily says, "I wish I knew, but it can't be good."

Abram shouted, "Behold, the rise of Sheniro! Behold, the fall of the Nameless Ones!" He lifted his hand and the talisman went flying into the air to hover fifty feet above the ground.

"That's the god of pleas-- that can't be good." Nihilian said, stepping back. "What should we do?"

Emily stood back and stared at the talisman floating in the air, lightning crackling around it, and said, "I'm not going to do anything. It wouldn't work and he'd just be pissed at me if I tried."

Abram said, "And now... Krizetch!"

There was a flash of multicolored light and a cacophonous screech of sound for a moment before it is suddenly silenced.

"Idile!" Abram cried.

The talisman seemed to twist and warp for a moment, then something seemed to snap and there was silence.

"Andron!"

It shuddered again, spinning around in white light, then stopped.

Nihilian stood ready to either dive at or away from Abram, body tense.

One by one he called out the names of the Nameless Ones, and with each one the talisman seemed to shift and break a bit more. Finally he screamed the last one, "GREVE!" and the talisman exploded in a hailstorm of fiery shards, accompanied by screams of blood and murder that were abruptly silenced.

Nihilian watched the shards of the talisman fall to the ground and looked at the blank eyed Abram before him, wondering now what he really was.

The daemonette had watched from the shadows, unsure just how things were going to turn out after it had stolen the talisman and given the thing to Abram, but it had to see... it slunk from the darkness tentatively, waiting to see whether he had done as he had sworn.

Danir wasn't blind or without contacts/informers, either, and something of that magnitude sent him thundering in the direction of the disturbance with a grim and deadly expression.

"It is done. Behold," Abram said, grinning broadly. "The new God of Darkness, Sheniro!" He raised his arms with the sound of a thunderclap, before momentarily collapsing to his knees trembling.

Emily stood back, arms folded across her chest.

"What have you done, you old fool?" Nihilian demanded.

"Is it... did it..." the daemonette asked softly, creeping nearer the collapsed man and searching with its varied senses. It deliberately avoided glancing in Emily's direction.

"What in the name of the foul gods is going _on_ here?" Danir demanded as he emerged from one of the connecting corridors with all weapons ready, surveying the situation with a cold eye, his retinue spreading out around him with weapons bared.

There was the definite feel of Sheniro about him, and far stronger than it was before, almost tangible. Abram laid there shivering and clutching his arms.

Emily commented dryly, "So that's why he came here."

"Your pet certainly has interest in this change..." Nihilian snarled.

"Meaning what?" Danir asked sharply, looking over at her, his gaze taking in the lack of the talisman but no thought of treachery forward at the moment.

The daemonette tilted its head, creeping near enough to extend a clawed hand tentatively toward Abram, "Tell me..." it whispered.

"Yes..." Abram whispered. "It is done..." He shuddered again, and his eyes fluttered, and he put a hand on the ground to steady himself.

Emily, however, didn't seem at all angry about it. She almost seemed... pleased.

"So, what has he done?" Nihilian wondered.

Danir growled, turning his attention in the direction of the man that seemed to be the focus of everyone else's gaze. "If he moves, kill them both. Damnable demons, what... have... you... done?"

The daemonette cooed delightedly and edged near enough to act as support for Abram. "Thank you," it whispered, nearly beneath audibility.

Emily said, "Well, it appears that we now have a deity who is less inclined toward eternal punishment of its followers. It remains to be seen if it's more than the sum of its parts."

"Gods be damned," Danir snarled. "What good were they before? You expect me to care now?" He growled a sigh, turning his attention back to Emily with a narrowed gaze. "What does this mean in practical terms?"

"It means, I believe, if you say 'Greve', nothing's going to happen." Sure enough, nothing happened this time, even though whenever she'd said one of their names before, except for Sheniro, there was generally an immediate response of some sort.

"One man with the power of nearly a dozen gods..." Nihilian thought aloud.

Emily shook her head at Nihilian and said, "Not him. Sheniro."

"Pfah," Danir snorted. "Another useless god of a distant realm who will seek to return to its own place. Good riddance at last."

The daemonette took notice of that and hissed at the terminator for a moment, then returns its attention to Abram to offer what assistance it could.

And then Danir promptly got sucked into a hole in space that disappeared as quickly as it appeared.

The daemonette flickered its attention toward the disturbance with wide eyes, a moment of speculation passing and then the creature shrugged as it returned to Abram. "Do not tempt the anger of that One," it said quietly.

"Wh..whoa. What the hell just happened to him?" Nihilian didn't seem entirely dismayed that the terminator was gone.

Emily said, "Um... Wrath of God?"

Danir proceeded to experience first-hand a number of interesting and mind-wrenching horrors before being spit out onto his face where he had been before. A tentacle could be seen releasing him before sliding back into the again disappearing hole.

Danir pressed up to his hands and knees, the talons of his powerfist digging furrows in the floor as he shudders for breath. "Never... again..." he grated, anger lending him the strength to rise ponderously, and he glared at Abram and his abomination. Without further word, he signaled his retinue and stomped from the room.

Abram slowly managed to pull himself into a sitting position, clearly exhausted from his experience although vaguely amused at Danir's misfortune.

Nihilian stared at Danir as he leaves, then looked back at the two. "What did you do to him?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing," Abram replied sincerely.

The daemonette hissed, a suddenly worried sound. "You must not let him leave this place. There are black things in his mind and a will to use them..."

"Like what?" Emily replied, raising an eyebrow. Oddly, it seemed she was a _lot_ more stable and calm than she had ever been since she arrived here. One would almost call her sane.

"I saw a glimpse of his mind, there was rage beyond measure... and fire from the skies," it replied, a delicate shiver passing along its sinuous form.

"Of course there are. The consciousnesses of ten or so gods just came together in his mind -- the half that aren't hedonic are all about killing."

"No you fool!" the daemonette hissed and impatiently tugged at Abram. "We must leave here!"

Abram stumbled to his feet uncertainly and said groggily, "What's going on?" Emily glanced to the sky with a bit of a frown.

"Fire and ruin," the creature moaned, threading an arm under his and bearing Abram's weight to try and get him moving toward the door. "If you are too weakened to flee by other means, then a ship. Hurry!"

"Wait, first he's not supposed to leave, now he is?" Nihilian looked up. "What in nine hells _is_ going on?"

"Get me to my ship, then..." Abram murmured, not feeling like arguing about it.

Emily sighed a bit and shrugged and followed them herself and said, "I have no idea, but I probably won't like it."

"Come, come," the daemonette murmured, more than happy to carry him if that was what was needed to avoid what she saw and couldn't put a name to.

"Ah, hell," Nihilian said, heading for the ship.

Rage simmered and burned, and that wasn't a healthy thing when talking of a man who had served Chaos long and well and knew the ways of what could be done. His beacon had served to transport he and his retinue to the ship far above, the one which had remained unfinished in its corruption before the Crusade had departed... an Emperor class vessel with the ability to shatter worlds. They would obey him or die, he cared not which. The crew was, unsurprisingly, quite willing to scurry to their duties, sensing the fury and unwilling to tempt it.

The daemonette hurried Abram along, finally picking him up and running flat out in the direction of the landing field. It sensed the urgency and knew there was little time, so little!

Emily took aboard her own ship, with or without Nihilian if he decided he was flying with her, and proceeded to take off. Nihilian piled into Emily's ship, untrusting of the daemonette. Emily takes off with Nihilian posthaste.

Abram had more difficulty, fumbling at the controls groggily. The daemonette better hope she could fly a Darknova-class fighter herself.

Their departure was fortunate, as the damned engines far above wailed and gnashed to bring the leviathan within ideal firing range of the planet. "Secondary weapons seek and destroy any who attempt to leave... Primary..." his eyes narrow and he snarled, "Fire!"

Vile green light erupted from the massive cannons of the ship to streak down toward the planetary surface, their special mission sending the energies smashing past the crust and questing for the very heart of fire...

"No!" the daemonette shrieked, seeing the fire descending as she'd seen and gnashes its teeth at the unfamiliar and unknown controls. "Wake up," it pleaded desperately, knowing there was no time left.

Emily was, fortunately, a very _good_ pilot, and her mind more clear than it had been in some time. She evaded them swiftly and proceeded to fly away.

Abram was having a good deal less luck, groggy and barely conscious.

Emily realized he wasn't behind her and murmured, "Father? Oh god, please help him..."

As if in response, the ship's shields flew up and the engines powered up on their own.

Danir didn't care, he could see the thousands of hours he'd set into this, his blackened soul poured into the damnable project... and then to be betrayed at the last! Damn them to hell! A cold rictus of a smile rose as the energy rose, and the ship began to move ponderously away as the planet began to enter its death throes, the crust shattering in jagged lines and fire erupting through it. Itwas but a moment more before all that was below was thrown violently outward as the planet spasmed and died explosively.

Emily looked genuinely worried as Abram's ship failed to appear, but then sensors picked it up flying out of the explosion almost as if divinely protected. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"A blast like that..." Nihilian peered out a porthole. "Dark gods, it's an Imperator Class..."

Indeed it was, and they were fortunate that events had stunned the system defenders sufficiently that the Hell Talon perimeter sweeps did not immediately answer the snarled call to duty. Danir would gather them later, and instead turned the massive bulk in a futile effort to catch the smaller craft. At best a shot or two could be sent at Abram's ship, Emily's already being out of range.

Emily commed to Abram's ship, "Fall in behind me, I'm getting us out of here." She proceeded to open a wormhole back to the Karzan Galaxy and flew through, leaving it open for him to take it.

The crew aboard Danir's ship were undoubtedly nervous as he roared in rage at the departure of the smaller ships. He was a practical man, however, and instead of rending them limb from limb he set them back to their duties while he fumed in thoughtful silence.

"A Chaos Imperator... Danir..." Nihilian's eyes darkened. "Were it not for his blasted sycophantic bodyguard..."

Something seemed to happen in the wake of the planet's destruction, however... an almost tangible feeling of _something_ dark and powerful... Sheniro was clearly not at all displeased with this turn of events, almost as if he'd intended for it.

Not quite according to plan, but that was what happened when you left things for the kids to deal with. Hey, no biggie, it still served the purpose. Quite nicely indeed, really, and somewhere someone chuckled a bit.

Abram's ship managed to get into the wormhole without getting shot out of the sky, and the wormhole zipped shut behind him. It pulled up closer behind Emily's ship and his strained voice came over the comm, "Never a dull moment, heh..."

"So, where are we headed now?" Nihilian asked.

What happened in the darkness of the Warhammer 40,000 universe was no longer truly relevant to them, a curtain being drawn across the scene by a capering fellow in jester's motley. All in a day's work, yes indeed, and soon enough a problem to be fixed... the question had certainly been answered after all!

Emily said, "I'd set a course for Epsilon -- Was the first thing that came to mind in the heat of the moment. Hopefully the Empire won't have gotten its claws in enough to shoot us on sight."

Nihilian sat back. "I shouldn't be surprised that he turned on us. Any minion of Old Chaos worth his salt would betray and brutally backstab as soon as it fit their needs and would either bring them more power or rid them of someone or something detrimental to them."

"And what about you?" Emily said with a faint smirk.

Abram said over the comm, "If you'll excuse me, I believe I'm 'stuck' on a small ship alone with a daemonette for the next week, so I'll turn the comm off now."

"So, your father possessed by the Nameless Ones..." Nihilian really didn't know what to do.

"Wha?" Emily said. "Not really, no."

"What was all that flash back on the surface, then?" Nihilian asked. "What happened?"

"I'm going to presume that Sheniro effectively ate the other nine gods," Emily explained.

"And Sheniro now controls their powers as well as his own."

Emily nodded. "I believe so, yes."

"Well, I certainly hope not to get on his bad side." He smirked.

"I suppose I can't complain about it too much, myself," Emily said. "Most of them were jerks who made their own followers suffer solely because they could. And was that talisman really messing with me as much as I think it was?"

"Do you normally tend to walk around three-quarters naked?" Nihilian wondered. "I wasn't about to say anything, as I figured you might bring Danir's lackeys to bear..."

Emily blinked for a moment and only noticed now. "Oh. That. Right. I think I was spending a bit much time with that daemonette myself..." She went to put something on.

Nihilian smirked.


	3. A Daemonette's Guilt

All had been going as well as might be expected in a setting infested with Urians and the other scum of the galaxy, some small few may have even begun to think in terms beyond their next fix... maybe, the jury was still out on that one. Somewhere along the way, though, Abram may have noticed that he'd lost a shadow and not quite sure when it had happened. Hours? A day? More? Depends how alert he'd been among the hectic activity.

Abram frowned a bit and went off to look for the missing daemonette after finishing moving another crate of supplies brought in from somewhere or another.

It took him a while, as no sign of the creature was found in any of the usual places inhabited and used by the people of the base. Really it was only chance that a sound of something crashing to the floor drew his attention as he was passing by a dusty and little-used storage room with a wild array of scraps inhabiting it. The Euphorians were not particularly known for their tidy housekeeping.

The source of the noise was one of the pieces of flotsam falling from a shelf, apparently jangled from its place by the daemonette curled in the farthest corner, half-concealed by the shadows. A low-voiced one-sided conversation was being murmured, but it made no sense as he approached.

Abram frowned a bit, looking over to the creature and approaching cautiously. He raised an eyebrow and tried to make out what was being said.

Something didn't look quite right about it, too many curves and angles in the shadows and the coloration he could see of the tail twitching at the edges of darkness was almost black rather than its usual. Even hearing its voice more clearly he couldn't make out what it was saying, the creature's voice alternating between sultry and a snarl from moment to moment and throwing off any hope of interpretation.

Abram went up to it quietly, looking over the being and wondering what was going on. He crouched down close by.

The creature started suddenly as his presence registered in its fevered mind, the oddities of appearance suddenly becoming clear as it pressed as far back into the corner as possible amongst an unfurling of leathery wings.

"Don't!" it cried, holding a gnarled, scaled hand with hardened talons out as though to ward him away.

Abram, far too much a Death Dancer to be concerned about personal safety or actually listening to people's warnings, held his ground.

It didn't say or do anything more, save to return to the tightly held posture, arms crossed and legs tucked in tightly as it shivered and twitched. Glancing down, Abram could see a thin rivulet of dark fluid that crept away from the creature, the bluish-black color not bearing much resemblance but the consistency reminding him of blood.

Abram frowned some more, staring and wondering what was going on here. He stood there silently, waiting.

The daemonette shuddered violently, tail lashing frantically, and then went suddenly still as it exhaled. "Please," it moaned, "Don't let him... Don't make me... Don't _let_ me..." then fell silent once more.

Abram reached out tentatively to put a hand on the creature.

The daemonette shuddered at his touch, but there was no further that it could withdraw as it was already backed into the corner. It didn't respond immediately in any other way, its breathing ragged and punctuated by the occasional whimper or moan.

Abram whispered, "What's going on? Are you alright?"

"He's calling me," the daemonette replied in a tight, barely heard whisper. "I can't... can't go back... can't stay. Don't want..."

Abram held it in his hands reassuringly. "You don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

"You don't understand," the daemonette moaned, unclenching its taloned hands and holding them out before it, the source of the fluid now clear as the claws were coated with a thin film of its own blood. "I can hear Him calling me, demanding I return, drawing on the warp of my being... I can't deny..."

"Who? Who is it?" Abram wondered.

" _Him_ ," the daemonette replied desperately, its dark eyes staring at him as though it could make him understand through that alone, but seeing no recognition of the inescapable truth there its expression faltered and it reached to touch him. "Please, don't let me go back... I don't want..." It stiffened suddenly and looked past him with a horrified expression, sensing a change even as it happened.

"Well I'll be damned," someone said from behind them, "Never in a hundred million years would I have expected this." The speaker was lounging against a crate, a tall and lean elf in archaic homespun peasant garb, and a fragrant smoke drifting from a pipe puffing absently between his lips.

Abram looked back over his shoulder, still clenching onto the daemonette as if expecting it to be pulled out of his hands before his eyes.

Bob didn't move, studying the two of them thoughtfully, then smirked and shook his head. "Relax, I'm not here to hurt you."

That was directed to the daemonette, and the sudden relaxation of its rigid tension suggested that it either believed the stranger or had been urged to do so by other means. He took another puff at the pipe, then exhaled a ring which separates into three that circled each other until dispersing.

"Well I'll be damned," he repeated bemusedly.

"What's going on here?" Abram wondered. "Who are you? And who is this 'Him' she's talking about?"

"Bob's the name," he replied with a grin, tamping his pipe down and then setting it aside as he pushes away from the crate with cat-like grace. "And I think you'd know 'Him' if you saw him. Employee of mine now, after a fashion, and it looks like he's being a little heavy-handed with your little daemon friend there."

Abram clearly had no bloody idea what was going on here. "Well, she shouldn't have to go somewhere if she doesn't want to."

"Welllll, as to that..." Bob pursed his lips and paced a few idle steps. "There's a catch when you're a daemon and made from the very Warpstuff of another universe entirely. They weren't exactly made to be self-determining, y'know? Bad for business, morale, and all that sort of thing."

Abram frowned. "That hardly seems fair. How does that make her any less of a person?"

"Ah, there's the nub of the matter!" Bob nodded, pointing to Abram, and ignored the wide-eyed staring daemonette for now. "That's something completely new, something I haven't seen before, and they've been around for quite a while now! Chaos never was too picky about instilling intelligence or other useless qualities into its minions, so why should they have done it with daemons? The new order, that's something else again."

"I don't imagine the monkeys that became humans were intended to be that smart either," Abram said with a snort. "It's ever the nature of things that a few will rise above their origins and become something more."

"Just so, just so," Bob agreed, looking around. "Who knows what started it? Was it the tip-toeing of the old ones into oblivion? Mayhap a dash of hope thrown in by new arrivals? Perchance a taste of the quieter waters available around here? Hmm, can't say with any particular certainty, too many threads woven here, there, and everywhere, but it's the one that leads _back_ that the critter's going to have to worry about."

"Are you going to do something about it?" Abram asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Me?" Bob asked with a theatrically quirked brow. "What do you expect _me_ to do about it? It's not me that left things laying haphazardly about for some vindictive and rather vicious-minded brute to grasp at and twist! I'm certainly not the guilty party here!" He shifted a meaningful glance to the daemonette at that, and it quickly looked away, biting its lip. "Mm-hmm. See? Without that, there's nothing to hold the wee bairn."

"Wha?" Abram said, giving him a look of confusion and looking back at the daemonette, clearly having no idea what in hell he was going off about now.

"I will do something, though," Bob said. "Twenty-four hours I'll give yon beastie, to resolve what's needed and sever that which binds."

The daemonette sucked in a breath as a tangible pressure was lifted from it, then looked from Bob to Abram uncertainly before nodding once. It drew away reluctantly and stood, the wings folding awkwardly behind it.

"You know what you have to do, so shoo," Bob commanded lightly and nodded in satisfaction as the creature vanishes, then looked to Abram with a grin. "And you're still wondering what the _hell_ is going on here, right?"

Abram relaxed a bit and turns over toward him and said, "You could say that, yes. Well, you just did, but yeah." He smirked.

Bob chuckled. "Aye, and well enough you should, since the tale comes of a universe that's not your own, though there were forces here who would have sought to claim some measure of its power. Hrm," he mused, looking thoughtful, then swept it aside. "So how much do you know about your little friend, anyway?"

"She's good in bed?" Abram supplied, snickering softly. "But no, I have a fair idea what she is, there've been similar beings seen in this universe, but..."

Bob looked at Abram strangely, then smirked and shook his head. "Oh, I'm sure that's true, but in days of old it'd be worth your soul to even consider it. But then circumstances were quite different when the critter was first encountered, unprecedented circumstances that left it and those like it without the rigid and unbreakable command of Slaanesh hanging over it. What do you suppose that meant?"

Abram snorted softly. "And what would a Urian priest have cared about their soul? I've already _been_ to Hell and back."

"There's worse than hell, m'friend, much worse," Bob replied soberly. "At least there you're looking at the soul still surviving, still enjoying a potential for growth even as it gets put through all sorts of wonderful torments. What happens when that soul is leashed and constrained, never allowed beyond rigid boundaries? Your little friend could tell you what that means and what you helped it escape from, all unknowing."

Abram nodded shortly, and said, "S'not right to enslave beings in that manner, no. But in my experience, most who do so think little of it."

"Chaos didn't think a hell of a lot _period_." Bob snorted, then grinned. "That's looking like it's about to change, though, and therein lies the problem that we've run across here. Someone remembers you and your daemon pal, and is pulling out a few stops to make the critter as miserable as possible to get his hands on it. With the changes the poor waif's undergoing, it's wide open to what he's doing."

"So what's going to happen, then? And why is 'he' doing this?"

Bob hopped up on the crate he'd rested his pipe on and crossed his legs, shrugged. "What happens depends on whether or not the daemon can figure out how to seal off the hold on it. Chaos never intended for their kind to be able to possess any sort of emotions beyond the useful stuff to them like lust and hate, etcetera, so suddenly starting to feel these emotions has left a significant hole in natural defenses."

Bob picked up the pipe and looked at it, turning it in his hands.

"That's what's being used against it, its own developing emotions, and it might or might not realize the one that it has to deal with to seal itself away again. If it doesn't, well..." Bob looked back to Abram and smirked. "Then it'll go back and become whatever he tells it to be."

Abram sighed and shook his head. "That's not right." He folded his hands behind his back and paced the room nervously.

"Didn't say it was," Bob replied. "But then there's a hell of a lot in the various universes that isn't. I hopped over to take a look, though, since it happened to deal with a native and I happen to agree with you on it. There's a way for it to throw off the connection, but it has to deal with one emotion that's been one of the hardest throughout the existence of sentient life and it has no clue... guilt."

"Is there anything I can do?" Abram wondered, looking over to him again.

"Don't you think you've done enough?" Bob smirked. "There you went, stirring things up and giving the critter a reason and chance to look even further beyond what it'd already been recognizing, and then caused a conflict in the burgeoning loyalty it was developing... you don't think Chaos had much of _that_ going around, do you? Hardly!" He snorted, shaking his head. "No, you helped push things along, now the daemon has to decide what it's going to do with that gift. Really still surprises the hell out of me to see it, I'd have expected a _Necron_ to show some kind of honest emotion before one of those."

A voice behind him suddenly said, "I don't know, I think it's rather cute, myself."

And there was Sheniro, perched atop a pile of crates and sitting like a frog, looking over at them from beneath a flowing cascade of pink hair.

Bob chuckled, relighting the pipe with a thought and taking a light puff. "Oh, I don't say it's a bad thing, just surprising." He nodded to Sheniro. "And that's why I didn't just tell him to shove off and leave the thing alone. Won't exactly learn much and move on if it doesn't have to sort through the new tangle alone, will it?"

"Everyone's gotta learn something somehow," Sheniro said, bouncing down to the floor and landing casually, and brushing himself off even though he hadn't gotten any dust on himself.

Abram looked oddly to Bob, to Sheniro, back again, and sighed a bit.

"Sorry about dropping in unannounced, though I was going to say hullo before I left..." Bob quirks a brow and smirked at Sheniro. "Though that's more than I can say the last time you popped over to my place. Tsk. No matter, really, I'm just keeping an eye on things with the newly appointed and making sure nothing gets out of hand. This is the worst I've seen, and it's borderline since it may just work out on its own."

"What can I say? I couldn't resist," Sheniro said innocently with a playful grin.

"And the kids say _I'm_ crazy, they have noooo idea." Bob smirked. "On the plus side, things look to be calming down a bit and you shouldn't have to worry about things seeping back over here again any time soon. Methinks the lad shall be quite occupied for some time organizing and drawing the old Chaos fanatics back, then marching the tin soldiers off to war." He sighed. "Did you really have to push things like that at the end? It would have been so much simpler to have someone nice and malleable like that Nihilian fellow to put in place instead."

Sheniro shrugged and said. "Maybe I got a bit carried away... I was never able to actually _do_ anything like that before..."

"All's well that ends well, I suppose." Bob chuckled. "At least the new kid's someone with at least half a brain that won't go off half-cocked and invade other universes at a whim. He's even looking to clean up a bit of the mess that the last ones left behind, so can't fault the bugger too much." He glanced over at Abram and smirked. "Though it looks like your rehabilitation project is out of business now."

Abram raised an eyebrow and said, "What do you mean?"

"Oh, don't suppose anyway slipped a note under your door or anything, did they?" Bob laughed. "Especially not when they're heading back off to the Chaos wasteland like a dog looking for a pile to roll in. Your wayward former devotee of Khorne, dear boy, is now wending his way back to the loving embrace of his former and new master. I'm looking forward to seeing the expression on his face when he finds out."

Abram snorted softly and said, "Just as well. Emily was afraid she'd have to go shopping for a leash for him and get him housebroken." He sighed a bit, nonetheless.

"Oh don't be so glum," Bob said. "He's not the only one returning to the old ways, or should I say the new ways? Hmm. Any ways you look at it, I suppose, hehe. I suppose the Karzan and Elkandu will be more than happy to get rid of the flotsam and jetsam they gained with that nasty little invasion business, and they won't even have to pay in blood to get rid of them! All nice, neat, and dreamy. Literally." He chuckled.

"Yeah, I don't suspect most people will be complaining much about losing... most of them..." Abram muttered pensively.

Sheniro whipped out a flute from somewhere, leaned against a pile of crates nonchalantly, and started playing absently.

"I suspect not," Bob agreed. "A lot of trouble headed out of here and back for home..." He smirked and glared at Sheniro for a moment, then looked back to Abram. "And really I don't think you have much to worry about in regards to your little daemonic friend..." He blinked, then tilted his head as though thinking about something. "How odd, I'd have thought it would have a name by now. Not something they bothered with before, but with the changes. Odd, odd, odd. Something to poke it about before I go, I suppose."

Abram peered over thoughtfully at Sheniro, who was laying back and playing a slow, thoughtful tune that almost sounds a little sad, but hopeful. He stared for a long moment and then blinked and shook his head out.

Bob hopped nimbly from the crate he'd perched upon and stretched. "Welp, I think I've done about all I can or will here, for now..." Glancing over at Sheniro he added, "Feel free to drop by any time and say hello, but do try not to antagonize the new blood, won't you? _I'm_ the one who'll have to deal with him as time goes by, and I really don't think he'd be overly happy to see you, or..." He looked at Abram. "You and your daughter."

Sheniro put down the flute and said, "Oh, don't worrrrry, I'll be on my best behavior. Sides, lots to take care of around here, anyway. Oh yes."

"Best behavior, now why does that make me want to find a bomb shelter to hide out in?" Bob grinned. "Oh, that's why, the same reaction others tend to get when I say something like that." He laughed. "Alright, off I go to see what needs seeing and doing, I'll be sure to give Vermiis a great big hug from all of you. Drive him up a wall." With that, he disappeared.

Abram looked at the spot where he had been, then looked at Sheniro oddly.

Sheniro said, "Don't worry, man. Everything's gonna be juuust fine. Really." He winked and disappeared.

* * *

Meanwhile, the daemonette had gone to other dark and unused sections of the base to go over what it had thought the Laughing God meant. There was still so much that confused it, so many things different inside that made things harder than they'd been under the lash of Slaanesh. It had been simpler when the only thoughts to consider were those of pleasure and pain, blood and suffering, these new concepts were... painful.

That was what the god had meant though, and the daemonette knew it, the source of it stretching back to before it had come here. It had taken to avoiding the thorns of it, remaining as still and quiet as possible when confronted with the thing, and yet... it could feel that was exactly what was being twisted by distant malevolence, turned into a knife of 'not belonging' that twisted within.

With a soft sigh of resignation and trepidation, the creature drifted silently inward to go and find Emily and do what it could to end the matter.

Emily was sitting alone in an office, reading over datapads of inventories, placing orders for more required supplies and making sure people got sent to what they were supposed to be doing. She'd happily leave it to Koth and such to make sure they actually do it, though.

A shadow formed in a corner of the office, only moments before the daemonette emerged from it and stood silently to gather its courage. The harsh, rough edges of the change were even more evident in the light, the smooth curves broken by jagged plates and scales in a half-formed transformation toward a more draconic ideal, and the streaks of ichor didn't help the feral appearance in the least.

Drawing a deep breath, the creature stepped nearer and hesitantly drew attention to itself.

Emily looked up and blinked, and said, "Whoa, what's with this makeover?"

The daemonette winced, then managed a weak smile. "It wasn't my idea..." it said quietly, wings self-consciously folding around itself even as its arms crossed. It looked around the office, as though looking for something, though in truth only delaying. "I needed to talk to you."

Emily nodded and put the datapad down and motioned it over and said, "Sure, what's up? Is there a problem?"

"No..." the daemonette replied, gaze flicking only briefly to Emily and then turning away. "Yes. I..." it sighed and seemed to wilt. "I don't understand, but I do, and I don't know but yet again do... I'm so confused!" It sank into a chair and curled up, looking thoroughly miserable.

Emily stood up with a quiet sigh and went over to it, and crouched down beside the chair. "Go on, you can tell me. What's wrong?"

The daemonette turned its eyes away, then back to Emily with a deliberate effort. "I'm sorry," it whispered. "I know it worked out, and well, but I still did it, and I'm so sorry..."

"Don't be sorry. You did the right thing," Emily said quietly, tears coming to her eyes. "You may not realize it, but you saved me... You freed my mind and soul from the traps that had been laid upon me..."

The daemonette shook its head, eyes turning downward and replied softly, "I know. If I knew then what I know now I'd do it again, and again, without hesitation, but..." It drew further in on itself. "I didn't do it for you or anyone else, I didn't _know_ you'd be alright and I did it anyway..." It turned dark eyes to Emily and touched its chest with a claw. "I betrayed you here, not understanding, not knowing..."

Emily looked at it a bit sadly and said, "Well, I forgive you that, at least. Can't say I've hardly been always a perfect angel myself... far from it. I was hardly realizing what real emotions were for the first time when I got snared up in my own weakness..."

The daemonette tilted its head, looking puzzled. "But... you're human. We were made without such 'trivialities'," she spat the word out like poison. "But you're born with them, that's why we could manipulate and turn them against those Slaanesh commanded..."

Emily shook her head. "No. I wasn't. And I'm not even really fully human, myself," she explained with a sigh. "I was... a genetic experiment. They were playing around with my DNA, trying different things... They made me wrong. Anyone sane would have never let me live and go free, but they did, and for all the terrible things I did in those centuries..."

"You didn't understand," the daemonette replied softly. "Any more than I did, or still do." It sighed, thinking things through and apparently making some peace with it as the abnormalities slowly began to fade away. "Thank you," it said, offering a timid and uncertain smile.

"It was only... only a few months ago, that that angel 'fixed' me, and I didn't realize how vulnerable I really was then, or what all these strange things I was feeling were... It's only been after we got back here that I've been able to assume anything resembling what one would call 'normality'..."

The daemonette nodded emphatically, understanding. "It's so confusing! Things were much simpler before, when everything was directed by the will of someone above and revolving around predictable paths. Then..." It blinked, looking at nothing in particular. "Suddenly you realize that there's something more important, or at least you believe it's so." It frowned, still unable to properly describe or put a claw to the thing.

Emily smiled gently. "There are things... more important. There is... life. That's why I'm here, and why I'm doing what I'm doing. I can't change the past... but I can change the future."

"I know," the daemonette replied quietly. "Though I don't know that I'd want to change the past anyway. There are things that some would consider wrong or evil, but those things happen all the time no matter what they might wish for. I think I'll just have to watch and decide for myself on that." Morality, another unfamiliar and uncomfortable topic, made all the more difficult by its nature.

Emily said quietly, "I think we both still have a lot to learn. But here we are." She straightened a bit, and looked to the window, where the swirling, toxic atmosphere was visible outside the biodome.

The daemonette uncurled from the chair and stood, looking out to the window and its poisonous view with no clear understanding as to just _why_ the Jordans seemed intent on turning the toxic stew into something breathable by normal folk. Human oddity, or something more? It sighed wearily, then smiled and reached to lightly touch Emily's cheek. "Thank you." The returned-to-normal hand dropped away. "I'll leave you to your work now."

Emily smiled faintly at it and gave a nod, and said, "Good luck. If you ever need anything, or just want to talk about something, remember you can always come to me."

A hint of mischief sparked in the dark eyes and the daemonette drew close enough to lightly kiss where it had touched. "I'll remember that," it whispered, then grinned and turned away. Confusion was for the unknown, its nature wasn't the least perturbed, however.

Emily grinned faintly, and went to pick up the datapads she had been working on. One would never have expected a Death Dancer or a mad priest to let themselves get so caught up in paperwork.


End file.
